


Chuck Shurely Will Pay

by jesstiel (jseca)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 200th episode, M/M, fake!dean/fake!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2536871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jseca/pseuds/jesstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Chuck had.. embellished certain things in his gospels? And the creators of Supernatural: The Musical just kind of.  Ran with it?</p><p>It's not like he ever thought Dean would find out..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's true that we have literally no idea where Chuck went post season-5, but since there are still gospels being written, I like to imagine he's pervin' from Heaven. As God? As a normal dude with a forced unhealthy interest in the Winchesters? Either way, I like to imagine if he got to writing season 8, it might have gone something like this :p

Dean recognises this scene. 

… No, this  _moment_.  From their lives.   _Not_ just a scene in a book, or a.. a musical.

God, why did it have to be a  _musical?_

… Whatever.  He recognises it as the moment he found Cas in purgatory.  It had been an emotional moment, sure – he had just found his best friend after, hell, the best part of a year being told that it was the wrong thing to do by Benny.  But he had lost Cas before, and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna do it again.  He wouldn’t say it out loud, but his definition of ‘home’ had, by that point, extended to Sam  _and_  Cas, and he’d do anything to keep it that way.

It’s just –

“Nice peach fuzz,” Dean hears his musical counterpart say as she reaches up to… palm Cas’s cheek?  It hadn’t gone that way, had it?

Next to him he hears Sam make a light scoffing noise, and when Dean looks over to glare at him, he’s grinning to himself like he knows something Dean doesn’t. 

“That’s not how-,”

“Ahem.” Dean’s interrupted from his attempt to defend himself to Sam as Benny’s counterpart subtly breaks the moment, which is  _still_  going on.  Dean frowns; Fake Dean and Fake Cas are staring into each other’s eyes like there’s nobody else in the world to see, Dean’s palm still… resting gently on Cas’s cheek.  Christ.  Just where the hell are they getting this from, anyway?  If Chuck isn’t already dead, he’s gonna find him and kill him again, Dean vows.

——

Not much later, it happens again.  It’s another of those scenes (although really, he could attribute it to the whole damn musical) that Dean wishes could have been kept strictly between himself and, in this case, Cas, ‘cuz, personal conversations, man.  Specifically, it’s the talk he and Cas had had during their loony tunes case ** _,_** one which still makes Dean’s blood run cold, even hearing it from an outside perspective. 

Or, it would have, had Fake Cas’s “I’m afraid I might kill myself,” not been completely over dramatized.  She looks away from Fake Dean to stare somewhere into the distance.  In reality, Dean remembers being knocked flat by that.  He also remembers that Sam had come in a few seconds after.  He isn’t entirely sure whether that had been a good thing or not.

Except the seconds tick by, and Fake Sam still hasn’t made an entrance.  In fact, he notices suddenly, Fake Dean is actually moving off of her bed, tentatively moving to sit on Fake Cas’s.  Dean frowns.

Dean puts her hand gently down onto Cas’s arm.  Cas looks up, tilting her head.

“You can’t-,” Fake Dean says – sings?  There’s gentle music starting up in the background to accompany her.  And – yup.  She’s moving in.  Dean makes a strange choking noise.

Something inside him twists pleasantly. 

Sam is trying his hardest not to burst out laughing.

They’re so frickin’ close, and Dean is.. he’s… captivated.  Until something clicks and he rises violently out his seat. 

His loud “what the  _fuck,_ man?!” is timed perfectly with Fake Sam bursting through the Fake Door, thus interrupting this E _xtremely Fake Moment_.  The actors break out of their reverie, looking up at Dean, completely bemused. 

“Is there a problem?” The director asks, frowning up at him.

“Yeah, actually,” Dean replies, moving down towards her.  He  _completely ignores_ Sam giving in to his urge to laugh as he goes.  “You got a copy of the original?”  The director raises her eyebrow.

“What, you want to do some fact checking?”

“As a matter of fact,” Dean replies plainly. 

“Fine, but we’re going to continue rehearsals,” she says, reaching into her bag and pulling out a printed copy of their reference material.  “You better bring that back.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean replies flippantly, already thumbing through the pages of, supposedly, Chuck’s writing, to find that specific scene.  He makes his way back up to Sam, diligently ignoring the look he’s definitely getting right now.

_‘Dean can’t believe what he’s hearing.  This is his best friend, someone who’s stood by him no matter what the consequences, and he wants to die? He feels his heart being to pump a little faster, his mind unwillingly conjuring images of Cas, dead by his own hands.  His stomach twists unpleasantly.  He **can’t** lose him again.  He’s got to convince him that it’s worth sticking around.  He contemplates getting up, sitting down beside Cas, leaning in - finishing something he feels they both started a long time ago.’ _

“What,” Dean deadpans quietly, although.  Maybe - 

“Let me see!” Sam grins, reaching to take the manuscript from Dean.

“Lies.  All of it, lies,” Dean grumbles, flipping back to the first page to give Sam a harder time of it.

Yeah.

All lies.

——

Shit.

_Shit._

Dean’s on the edge of his seat, flinching as every punch ‘lands’ with an impressive  _whack_  sound effect.  Dramatic even when you ain’t living it.

“Please, this isn’t you.   _Cas._ It’s me.”

Oh god.

“We’re family.”

It still hurts.

“We need you.”

_God -_

“I love you.”

“ _Mother **fucker**.” _ The momentum Dean's gained from clutching his seat so hard at the memories spring him straight up, and he raises his arms in exasperation.  Sam can’t help it – he knows this is supposed to be dramatic, and it’s actually filling in a lot of gaps for him, but – it’s fucking  _hilarious_.  “Are you fucking – nope.  I’m outta here.  That’s it.  Bye.”

“Dean -,” Sam calls through laughter he’s trying to force back.

“ _Nope.”_ Dean’s already at the auditorium door, which slams behind him as he goes. 

Nobody was supposed to know that.

_Nobody._

“Dear Chuck, who might art be in Heaven,” Dean starts, making his way outside and looking up to the sky with a wicked grin on his face.  “I am going to murder you.  You are going to feel the righteous pain of the righteous man who has been  _un_ righteously ‘outed’ to the  _entire freakin’ world._ ” Dean takes a breath.  “I don’t care if I have to wait to kick the bucket til I can do it.  Just you wait.  There will be pain.”

 He contemplates for a second.

“A-fuckin’-men.”


	2. Chapter 2

The curtains fall.

After taking some well needed time out, Dean had reluctantly walked back into the auditorium, sitting next to Sam whilst focusing extremely hard on pretending he didn’t exist, and had caught the final twenty minutes or so.  The musical had ended as the angels started falling, accompanied by soaring musical scores and the entire choir joining in for the final song –

_The angels are falling!_   
_The world is in turmoil!_   
_And who was it this time?_   
_That douche Metatron!_

A heartfelt brotherly lament:

_Sammy, if you do this, you’ll die,_   
_And you know the code we live by,_   
_Nothing’s more important to me than you,_   
_We’ll figure this out; We’ll make it through,_   
_Just like we always do_

Plus a tearjerker of a solo from Fake Cas:

_I can’t believe it’s happened again,_   
_Misplacing my trust has signalled the end,_   
_My brothers and sisters are falling to Earth,_   
_And now I’m a human, have I lost all worth?_

(Dean will absolutely, forever and always, refuse to admit that he shed a single, perfect tear at that.)

It had been a rollercoaster of three hours, bringing up a lot of memories both Sam and Dean would rather have been left untouched, and in _musical_ form, just to add insult to injury.  But for some reason, both brothers had found themselves absolutely captivated by the cheesy, surprisingly misinformed, and often plain _derogatory_ play that had been spun from their lives.  From The Gospels of Chuck Shurley: Dead Man. 

Honestly, Dean feels like Sam got away pretty much scot-free.  It’s not like he didn’t already know about Ruby and the demon blood, and, being a (nearly) family friendly musical, the NC-17 parts were, _thankfully_ , left to the imagination.  Not to mention, to save on time, the Soulless Sam Saga and the entire ‘you didn’t search for me whilst I was in Purgatory?!’ debate had been left out completely, so all in all, it had cast Sam in what Dean thinks is a pretty happy light, all things considered.

Dean himself, however, is wondering if he didn’t get the short end of the stick.  He really didn’t think three hours previously that he would be walking away from this already fairly stressful ordeal with a gigantic neon sign blinking above him that proclaimed **‘I AM EXTREMELY GAY FOR CASTIEL’.**  Honestly, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

But between the cheek palming and the near-misses and the freakin’ ‘ _I love you’,_ well, it’s a wonder Fake Dean and Fake Cas hadn’t started makin’ out there and then, Dean thinks moodily.  May as fucking well have; he’s already lost all hope of keeping it under wraps.  Hell, he wasn’t even particularly aware there _was_ anything to keep under wraps before today.  He had, apparently, been blissfully unaware.  For instance, he’s kind of kicking himself for even asking what it was that broke Cas’s connection to Heaven back in the crypt, since as the line had been repeated by Fake Dean, Real Dean found the answer as clear as day.

_It was **you,** you stupid son of a bit – wait.  It was me?_

And it’s not like he’s forgotten their little.. duet… in the middle of the show, either. 

 _So it seems_ **I’m** Castiel,  
 _No longer Emmanuel,_  
 _How could you want me here?_  
 _We didn’t part friends.._

_You think that matters to me?_   
_You’re more than just an angel, can’t you see?_   
_I kept this with me through it all,_   
_‘Cuz I knew that you’d come back.._

Ugh.  Dean clenches his eyes shut for a moment.  Sam keeps side-eying him like he wants to start a ‘conversation’, and like hell that’s gonna happen.  Instead, he makes his way back down to the director, primarily to give her back the original material, but also to ask a.. delicate question.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” Dean asks tentatively.  The director frowns a little, but nods.  They make their way over to a corner of the auditorium.

“I just.  Why.” Dean makes awkward hand motions that he’s _really_ hoping convey the general jist of his question, but judging by the director’s raised eyebrow, it’s not working.  “The whole.  Dean and Cas.  Thing,” he manages.

“Oh!  Well, the way I see it, Mr. Edlund has portrayed Dean and Castiel’s story as a romance,” she replies, matter-of-factly.  Dean grimaces.  “Cas had been shaped by Dean since the moment he met him.  All of Cas’s decisions are focused on how they might affect Dean – and I mean, he’s rebelled against everything he believes in for him over and over, and died for him time and time again, and no matter what, they manage to find each other against all odds!  I mean, just look at the scene where Cas re-writes the prophet’s word to help out Dean, or the entire Emmanuel arc!  And Dean, well – he fought tooth and nail through Purgatory for a year, praying to him every night – and Dean’s not a praying man, y’know?”

“I know,” Dean mutters. 

“So it just made sense to have that aspect of their relationship portrayed in our musical.  It’s too important of a character dynamic to be left out.”

“Right.”

“For my money, it’s one of the best love stories out there today, and should be shared with the world!” She smiles, completely unaware that something inside of Dean is twisting tighter and tighter as she speaks.

“Got it.  Well, that answers that. Thanks,” Dean manages to grit out before turning away, once again struck with the unavoidable urge to get some fresh air.  _Best love story out there today_.  That’s.

\-----

Back in the Impala, Dean is distracted.

He can’t stop mulling over certain moments in his life, tying them together with what the director had been saying about Dean… about _his_ and Cas’s ‘relationship’.  He wants to immediately discard all of it, pretend that this Big Revelation had never even happened, but now it’s out, it’s _out._  So to speak.

So maybe he feels something for Cas.  He can deal with that.  In time.  But Cas?  There’s _no_ way Cas feels something for him.  It’s just not plausible; the guy’s an _angel_ for christ’s sake.  They’re practically built to be loyal, and be loyal to a kind of ridiculous degree.  It’s more than likely Cas just imprinted himself on Dean as a replacement for his missing Dad.  Dying for him over and over, protecting him, keeping him safe – that can’t be born of _love_ , can it?  Do angels even feel love?  Even if they could, why in hell would they waste it on him? 

Plus, Dean remembers with an unsatisfying jolt, Cas had had ‘a female’ waiting for him in his car.  He had hardly even stuck around to say hello after Dean had regained his humanity before he had whisked himself off to go and do.. whatever it was he was doing with this ‘female’.   He obviously had better things to do than stick around with Dean; that’s gotta be conclusive evidence.  Even if it’s evidence that kinda makes Dean pissed off the more he thinks about it.

“Dude, are you okay?  You seem distracted,” Sam says, snapping Dean back to the moment.  It’s lucky he can drive on autopilot, otherwise he probably would have found himself slammed into a nearby tree or something by now.

“Nope.  Distracted?  Nah.  It’s all good in the hood, Sammy.”

“… Anything you wanna talk about?” Sam knows _exactly_ what he’s doing.

“I honestly don’t know what would make you think that.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Sam shrugs airily.  Dean completely ignores him, finding himself almost automatically settling back into his distracting thought cycle.

It’s just.  The musical had unearthed a few things that Dean hadn’t known about.  He hadn’t known, for example, that Naomi had made Cas kill thousands of iterations of _him_ , specifically, in order to make sure he got the angel tablet.  And when it had come down to the wire? Cas couldn’t do it. 

Not to mention, when he actually takes a second to think about it, Cas had given up his entire angelic army just to save Dean.  He hadn’t really had the time nor the motivation to think about the implications of that under the heavy influence of the Mark of Cain, but now..

And for fucks sake.

The guy had stuck around, invisible, to watch him _raking leaves._   That’s.  

Almost as a reflex action, Dean violently grabs his phone out of his pocket.  Sam looks over at him, eyebrow raised as Dean punches in speed dial 2.  He doesn’t have to wait long to hear the click of his call being accepted.

“Are you in love with me?!” Dean bursts out before he can even think about it.

“… What?” Cas says, and Dean almost doesn’t hear it for Sam grinning widely as he shouts out “I knew it!”

“Are you,” Dean starts to repeat, blinking slowly.  What the hell is he even doing.

“Dean.. are you okay?”

“I’m.  Yeah, Cas, I’m good, just – we saw this musical.  About our lives.”

“Your lives?”

“Yeah, that bitch Chuck somehow kept writing those fucking _Supernatural_ books, and some kids really took ‘em to heart.  It was dire.”  He pauses for a beat.  “There was _singing._ ”

“I see,” Cas replies neutrally.

“I’m just sayin’, man,” Dean tries, racking his brains to find the right words, all the while having to deal with Sam’s shit eating grin he can just see out of the corner of his eye.  “It came with a few.  Home truths.”

“About love?” Cas asks.  Dean winces.  Dude has no filter.  He can dully hear a female voice on the other end of the line.  “It’s Dean,” Cas says by way of an answer.

“About – yeah.”

“Dean.. are you sure this isn’t something we should discuss in person?”

“That sounds terrible,” is Dean’s reflexive answer, but really, Cas has a point.  “I’m not entirely sure why I rang you.”

“It’s obviously something important to you, if you felt the need,” Cas philosophises.  Damn angel.  Dean hesitates.  It’s not like he’s going to deny it.

“.. What about you?”

“More than I can say,” Cas replies honestly.

“Right,” Dean’s voice breaks a little as he speaks.  He swallows heavily.  “Guess I’ll see you around soon then.”

“I look forward to it, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean can almost _hear_ the smile the sunovabitch is probably sporting right now.

“Yeah,” Dean manages, just as he hears the dial tone.  Which means, of course, facing Sam.

“I’m happy for you, Dean,” is not what he was expecting, though.  Dean raises an eyebrow.

“That so.”

“Sure.  Honestly, it feels like it’s been a long time comi-,”

“Okay, that’s it, talk’s over,” Dean decides.  It’s been a highly charged fifteen minutes, and he’s about ready to stick some classic rock on and forget any of this ever happened. (Until he next sees Cas, that is.)

“I’m just saying, man!” Sam claps a friendly hand down onto Dean’s shoulder.  “That can’t have been easy.”

“Well,” Dean mutters, settling back into his seat and clicking the cassette tape player on. “Damned musical had to be good for something, I guess.”

 

 

  



End file.
